Caspian X (
the_seafarer) wrote2023-02-11 10:26 pm
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[au] Narnia and the North
There's a chill bite to the air, these days. The horses have been growing out their winter coats, and they look shaggy and plump as Caspian turns them out into the paddocks. Behind the stables, in the makeshift woodshop he'd cobbled together, the sleigh from his drawings is starting to come together.
He hopes he'll have it finished by Christmas. With a little luck, and maybe some assistance, he thinks it should be possible. The tack, he's largely left up to Susan's devices, though he'd commission Gimli the dwarf for the various buckles and other metal pieces they'll need.
Once the horses are turned out, he gets to his other morning chores with a will, whistling cheerfully as he does. The stable stays strangely quiet around him. It takes him the better part of an hour to realize the strangeness is because he's become accustomed to Susan's cheerful presence working alongside him, talking or humming or simply working in companionable silence.
Caspian pauses in his task – refilling the grain chest – and looks around. Susan's nowhere to be seen, and when he later wanders through the stables, checking each stall and outside, he can't find her there, either.
He hopes he'll have it finished by Christmas. With a little luck, and maybe some assistance, he thinks it should be possible. The tack, he's largely left up to Susan's devices, though he'd commission Gimli the dwarf for the various buckles and other metal pieces they'll need.
Once the horses are turned out, he gets to his other morning chores with a will, whistling cheerfully as he does. The stable stays strangely quiet around him. It takes him the better part of an hour to realize the strangeness is because he's become accustomed to Susan's cheerful presence working alongside him, talking or humming or simply working in companionable silence.
Caspian pauses in his task – refilling the grain chest – and looks around. Susan's nowhere to be seen, and when he later wanders through the stables, checking each stall and outside, he can't find her there, either.
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"As was this. You were right."
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"Now, shall we let them run?"
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To his credit, he holds off on actually doing so until they've cleared the garden itself.
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The horses enjoy the exercise, too, and need to be properly cooled down once they've cantered back out of the forest and back towards the stable.
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Susan praises him, gives him a bit of apple as a treat, and turns him out into his paddock before she makes her way back up to the front of the stable to meet the others. Alain's already there, helping Cuthbert to cool out Kiseki. She hesitates by the fence-rail, unaccountably nervous, then goes to Caspian and Duncan.
"Did he do well for thee?" she asks.
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"Or Cuthbert?"
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He comes to greet her, looking down at her with a smile that's full of light and hope. "We spoke with the birch-woman. She said to come, and welcome."
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It's easier to focus on the horse than on her tumbling, confused thoughts.
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He gives over the reins and steps to the side so she can walk the big gelding. It'll give her a little space to think, he expects, and so holds his tongue and walks quietly by her side.
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"Do'ee think it'll work?"
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"But I hope so. Cuthbert and Alain have done it before – not quite like this, perhaps, but something like, all the same."
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"I didn't wish to trouble her," she says, softly. "But I'm so glad she agreed. Thankee, for suggesting it."
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"I'm sorry for distressing you earlier. Thank you for allowing me to ask."
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He lifts her hand and presses a kiss to her fingers, then lowers it again. "And along the way, I told Cuthbert. About Rilian."
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He presses a kiss to her hair. "He liked the garden, too."
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She leans into him, just a little. "I'd not press thee," she murmurs, after a moment. "Or do aught to hurt thee, so if thee'd not speak of it, we'll not. But if thee would... why did thee tell him now?"
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Caspian breathes out, slow and steady, through his nose, but his shoulders stay relaxed. "And they think it's possible – if your mind and memory wanders, as it did this morning – you'll not know our faces. And of course I have a little knowledge of that."
He looks down at her. "This morning – do you recall hearing Aslan's name?"
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"Aye. Thee ordered me to wake. In Aslan's name, thee said."
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Beside them, Duncan walks lightly along, steam rising from his coat. "Cuthbert thought, perhaps, because it wasn't part of that memory."
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